Shake and Bake

"Oh, my," she said.

Rosario scooted her hips a little so that her cunt was pointed directly at me, then raised her hips to put it lewdly on display as her restless fingers moved the vibe to and fro about her clit. With her eyes locked to mine, she reached her other hand up to pinch and twist her left nipple. Her eyes went just a little unfocused from the pleasure of the sensation, and I suspect also from the excitement of having me watch her do it.

"Come a little closer, baby," she said. I stepped forward and moved my hips until my cock was directly in front of her face. Her smile got brighter as she began to smell my balls, her nostrils flaring. Then she opened her mouth and very gently enclosed the head of my cock with it. But she didn't stop there. In one slow, smooth, continuous motion, she swallowed my entire cock all the way to my balls. It felt fantastic. Then her body tensed up and I could tell that she was cumming.

Her orgasm lasted about 20 seconds, and then she began to suck my cock with single-minded intensity. I don't know how she did it -- I felt almost immediately like I was on the brink of cumming, and she kept me right there without taking me over the edge. I couldn't believe the levels of pleasure to which she was bringing me. I was trembling and groaning so loudly that it sort of frightened me, and from the sounds she was making I gathered that she enjoyed it very, very much. Then she released my cock from her mouth.

"Come and look at my wet cunt, baby. Take a good, close look!"

I knelt between her legs on the bed and leaned down to see. Her cunt was swimming in her juices, and her clit was a big, thick knob of flesh jutting out. She dipped her fingers inside, and slowly smeared her thick cream around her clit.

"Lie down, baby, I'm gonna give you a treat!"

I lay back on the bed, and Rosario straddled my face, suspending her pussy a few inches above my mouth. She continued to smear her juices around her clit, as the rest of her juices seeped out of her cunt and dripped down on my face. I caught most of the drips on my tongue. She asked me again and again if I liked it, and each time I would gasp out, "Yes!"

Then she shuddered a little, and brought her cunt to my face. I began to lick and suck it, and she came almost immediately, gushing into my open mouth. Her body tensed up momentarily as her orgasm hit, then without pausing to catch her breath, she moved her body down mine and impaled herself on my cock.

I cried out in pleasure. Her cunt muscles gripped my cock as we began to fuck. It felt like every muscle in Rosario's body was clenched, as we moved together fiercely. I reached behind her, where her thighs and buttocks were slick with pussy juice, wetted my finger, and pushed it slowly into her ass.

"Oh yes!" she gasped, "Both my holes!" She began to cum again, her body moving powerfully in sync with mine even while wracked with spasm after spasm. We kept this going for about a minute before I wailed and came inside her.

I must have fallen asleep. I woke up when I heard the front door open downstairs. Rosario snickered softly as she watched me scramble to get my clothes on. I leaned down to kiss her, then I made my way down the stairs as casually as I could.

Hannah and Miranda were sitting at the dining table with a couple of cold beers, and Miranda asked whether I would like one as well. I gratefully accepted her offer, and after she fetched one for me, they began to report on their meeting with Undersheriff Pete Mendez.

Miranda seemed almost giddy. "Pete knows all about Bennett Pharmaceuticals selling Oxy on the street in Oakland. It's much more profitable that way! But he says they haven't been able to set up a reliable pipeline. And too many people know they're trying to do it! Pete says he thinks the guys that loaned money to Milo and Mr. Sheppard are trying to get control of the Oxy. And that maybe those guys in the blue car are somehow involved, like a rival gang that's trying to muscle in!"

Hannah interjected, "Pete says that they have been trying to bust these guys but it's hard because the cast of characters is always changing. They keep finding guys like poor Milo and getting them mixed up in these deals. But he says we can use that briefcase as bait to nail at least some of the bad guys."

I asked, "So what does he want you do do?"

"He just wants me to tell Milo where the briefcase is. Which I will do, but only after I wipe my fingerprints off the damn thing. I manage a branch office of a credit union, I can't afford to have my name mixed up in a drug deal."

"You figure Milo will tell Mr. Sheppard?"

"Yes, I think that's the idea."

I was thinking to myself, This family is lot more interesting than my usual friends, I've got to write a story about them. And it was starting to get dark outside. I asked Hannah, "Do you want to go to the junkyard soon?"

She replied, "Yes, in about 15 minutes. I'm enjoying my beer, and then it will be dark enough."

We passed the 15 minutes with small talk as we finished our beers. Then Hannah and I got ready to walk out on the street. Miranda wanted to come along, but Hannah wouldn't permit it. "Just stay here and call Milo," Hannah said. "Tell him that we'll let him know where the briefcase is in a hour or so, and he's supposed to tell Mr. Sheppard. Tell him the Sheriff's Department will get him a deal in exchange for his cooperation."

Miranda pouted a little, but complied.

Hannah put her arm through mine as we walked around the block to Cyrus' yard, and wended our way carefully through the debris under the light of a full moon. We found the old Plymouth, and Hannah extracted the briefcase from under the seat. She produced some Clorox Wipes from the depths of her purse, and methodically cleaned all surfaces of the case with them. Then she used them to hold the case as she returned it to its hiding place.

"Mission accomplished," said Hannah. Then she flashed a mischievous grin and moved close to me. "Care for a quickie?" she asked me.

The idea of some quick nasty sex in a junkyard seemed quite wicked and appealing, and Hannah didn't wait for my answer. She was already on her knees, pulling down my zipper and hauling out my cock, which had already stiffened. She took it into her mouth and began to suck me with an enthusiasm that was infectious -- my hips began to move rhythmically, I needed to fuck. She moaned in appreciation, then rose to her feet and whispered in my ear: "You wouldn't believe how wet my cunt is." Then she gathered her skirt up around her waist and turned to the open door of the Plymouth, placing her hands on the car seat.

In the dim light I put my hands on her ass and discovered that she wore no panties. I slid my right hand down between her thighs and discovered that she was indeed very, very wet. I felt frantic with desire -- I positioned myself behind her and slid my cock deep into her cunt, as far as it would go. It felt so lush and hot that I could barely stand it.

I fucked her with slow, deliberate strokes, putting my weight into it. We were both trying to suppress our groans of excitement, not wanting to attract the attention of the neighbors, but we noisy despite ourselves. I wanted to shout out loud each time I shoved my cock in to the hilt, and felt her powerful cunt muscles squeeze me in response. It got better with each thrust, until I heard Hannah gasp, "Cum with me!" And I did.

Celeste made a big breakfast for us the next morning, with pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and melon slices. She wore a frilly sky-blue apron as she carried big platters of food from the kitchen to the dining table. I was seated with all the ladies, Celeste and Rosario, Hannah and Miranda. Every now and then Rosario would catch my eye with a hint of a smirk. Miranda and Hannah were comparing notes on the situation with Milo, using language they hoped wouldn't cause Celeste to become inquisitive.

Hannah asked, "Miranda, did you speak with Milo last night?"

Miranda replied, "Yes, and he said he would speak with Mr. Sheppard." She turned to Celeste and explained, "Mr. Sheppard is our boss at the pharmaceuticals company."

"Yes, I remember that, sweetie," said Celeste. Celeste was serving real maple syrup. I poured some on my pancakes and ate with gusto as I waited to see what else the girls had to say.

Hannah asked, "Is Milo going to come by here this morning?"

Miranda replied, "Yes, I think that was the idea. He seemed kind of busy last night, but I think that he did say that."

"I guess he's going to be staying up here for a while, isn't he? I'm going to go rent a car after breakfast to get us back down to L.A. so we can go back to work." Hannah took out her phone. "I'm ordering a Lyft car to take me to the rental place." After fiddling with her phone for a minute, she put it away and winked at Miranda. "I'll find us the perfect car for our ride home."

I was on my second cup of coffee now, and growing increasing curious about what sort of operation was underway with respect to Milo and the illicit briefcase. I finished my meal and got up to clear my plate and silverware (as Celeste beamed appreciatively). I thanked her for the meal, then turned to Hannah and Miranda, "I think I'll go out a sit on the front porch for a while. It's a beautiful day."

I went outside and waited, and after a few minutes, the girls joined me.

"What's going on with your officer Mendez?" I asked.

Hannah said, "He said to tell Milo where the briefcase was, and that Milo should tell Tom Sheppard, but Milo's not supposed to mess with the briefcase. If someone comes for the briefcase, that means Sheppard passed on the information and he can be busted as part of a conspiracy. At least I think that's the way it works."

"I hope Milo doesn't screw it up," I observed.

"He's going to cooperate," said Miranda brightly. "Pete said that if he plays ball, they'll cut him some slack on that stolen car."

"That's grand theft auto, isn't it?" I said. "They can only cut him so much slack on that. Or are they offering him some sort of immunity?"

A sporty little Kia pulled up in front of the house and tooted its horn. "That's my Lyft," said Hannah, and she walked out and climbed into the car, which drove off.

Miranda pulled out her phone. "I'm gonna call Milo, " she said.

I wondered whether that was a good idea. But Miranda was already connected.

"Hey, Milo! Are you coming over? ... Huh? ... Where did you say you are?... Wow.... Good luck to you, too." Miranda put the phone away, and turned to me, wide-eyed. "He's in Mexico."

"Mexico!"

"He has relatives there. He rode a bus all night. He says he can't deal with this whole situation and he had to make a run for it." She shook her head. "But he says he called Mr. Shepherd and told him where the Oxy was."

I scratched my ear. "His situation here probably wasn't too good if he stayed." I saw a police cruiser moving slowly down the street. "There's a cop car." There was an unmarked sedan following it.

"That's Pete Mendez!" exclaimed Miranda, gesturing at the second car. Both cars turned left into the cul-de-sac. "Come on, Ty, let's go peek at what is going on!"

I wasn't convinced that was such a good idea either, but Miranda was already on the move, so I followed her. She scampered down the block toward the intersection with the cul-de-sac with me hot on her heels. We were halfway there when our progress was interrupted by a group of dogs, two shepherd mixes, a spaniel and some sort of tiny mongrel mutt. They were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, whining at us, and the hair on their backs was standing up as if something was frightening them. We made our way around them, then stopped at the corner and positioned ourselves behind a tall hedge so that we could look down the street at the entrance to the junkyard. We were straining to see whether we could make out any activity behind the fence when the noise started.

It was a deep bass tone, the kind that you feel more than you hear. Actually, we were both feelingand hearing it as it got louder and the ground began to vibrate. I heard a car alarm go off, then another, as it became clear that we were having a second earthquake. All the drivers were pulling over to the curb. We heard crashing sounds from the nearby houses.

The shaking intensified. From the junkyard, we heard shouting and gunshots. I heard a car door slam and the sound of an engine being gunned, and suddenly the now-familiar blue Honda was shooting toward the intersection like a rocket. Just then I heard a loud cracking sound, and a tree fell across the road just in time to block the Honda's path. There was a crunch as the car struck the tree, then two men scrambled out of the car and ran in our direction. One of them was holding the briefcase.

Miranda and I drew back toward the hedge. Neither of us, it seemed, wanted to mix it up with these hombres. As they neared us, I recognized the man carrying the briefcase as the tall fellow in the Dodgers cap whom we had encountered back in Cholame. He met my eyes for an instant, but I couldn't tell whether he recognized me, and as he and his cohort ran past us, two uniformed cops and one plainclothesman appeared out of nowhere and tackled them to the ground.

There was a brief scuffle in which the cops came out on top. Meanwhile, the car alarms continued their maddening rhythmic beeping. People in the neighborhood were shouting, and now the cars were attempting to move again, honking at one another as they tried to maneuver around more fallen trees and other debris. Suddenly there was an eruption of water from the street that sprayed both of us. Apparently a water main had ruptured.

I turned to Miranda, who was drenched, pale and trembling. Her wide violet eyes met mine, and there was something mysterious in them, something tender and vulnerable. She stepped forward as if propelled by some unseen force, embraced me, and kissed me softly on the mouth.

We stood there for a moment without speaking, our arms around each other, soaked to the skin. There was now a geyser in the middle of street, along with the cacophony of the car horns and the general confusion. The cops had put handcuffs on the two thugs and were loading them into squad cars. The sun beat down upon us; today was going to be another scorcher.

"We'd better go check on mom and Aunt Rosie," Miranda said. I nodded my agreement, and we turned and hurried back down the street.

When we entered the house, Celeste and Rosario were standing in the living room, looking dismayed but none the worse for wear. The Frida Kahlo prints had fallen from the walls and the glass had fractured on impact, leaving a glittering trail of shards on the carpet. A hydrangea plant had toppled off an end-table and upended on the floor, scattering potting soil across the room. But other than that, the damage looked pretty minimal.

Miranda and I put on dry clothing, then spent the next hour assisting with cleanup. We were just finishing up when Hannah returned. She confirmed that Celeste and Rosario were all right, and gave her half sister a warm embrace. Then she took us outside to see her fancy rental car, a Hyundai Santa Fe Sport with a panoramic sunroof, which she made a point of showing to Miranda. "OK," she said, "we've got to get packed and hit the road."

"Give me a minute," said Miranda, and walked down the block again to peer at the entrance to the junkyard. A minute later she returned, looking disappointed. "There's no one there now."

"Good," I said. "Whatever went down didn't include us."

"Guess what," Miranda said to Hannah. "Milo's in Mexico."

"No kidding!" replied Hannah. "He flew the coop and got away. He's a lucky little bastard."

"I think we're all lucky," I said. "None of us are in jail."

"True," said Hannah. She put her arm around me and looked at her half sister. "Plus we made a new friend, and had some nice adventures, didn't we?" Miranda looked back and grinned.

We all went back inside to gather our belongings and say our goodbyes. I gave Rosario a chaste kiss on the cheek, as she grabbed my ass covertly and whispered something in my ear which I won't repeat in polite company.

We loaded our belongings into the Hyundai, and with Hannah behind the wheel we picked our way slowly through the quake-ravaged streets of Oakland. We were all in good spirits, now that we had come away unscathed after our brief contact with the criminal underworld.

Twenty minutes later, we were on the onramp, entering the southbound 880. The freeway seemed intact. I stretched my legs and relaxed into the plush front seat across from Hannah, while Miranda sprawled across the back seat, basking in the brilliant glow of the noon-day sun blazing through the sun-roof.

"Are you comfy back there, sweetie?" asked Hannah.

"Yes, I am," said Miranda.

"Does that sun feel good?"

"Very good."

"Got your toys?"

Miranda reached behind the seat and retrieved a small, hot pink duffle bag, which she placed lovingly beside her on the seat. "Yup."

Hannah smiled broadly and stepped on the accelerator. "OK, sweetie. Why don't you go ahead and get naked. I'm going to find us some truckers."

Well, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it, because I really need your vote.